


Nothing More Than a Fairy Tale

by Sotheylived



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotheylived/pseuds/Sotheylived
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Killian and Emma met is anything but simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing More Than a Fairy Tale

When asked how he met their grandmother, Killian Jones would tell his grandchildren that he fell in love on a beanstalk in the Enchanted Forest. They’d giggle and laugh as he told them the tale before insisting on hearing the _real story_ \- one that didn’t involve curses and magic and impossible things. He’d whisper the story of how he fell in love with Emma Swan as she jumped into the ocean from aboard a pirate ship on the outskirts of Neverland. He’d tell them he fell in love with her when she rescued him from the Underworld. He fell in love _,_ he’d say, as her bright yellow bug drove over the town line and the thunderous purple clouds of a curse rolled over him. He fell in love, he’d say, when he knocked on her door in New York City and the woman of his dreams opened it - his grandchildren tended to believe that one. He’d tell them he fell in love when she drank a potion with the power to return lost memories. He fell in love when she told him she’d stay. He fell in love when she kissed him the first time. _She_ fell in love, he’d tell his grandchildren, when she kissed him for the second time. He fell in love with her every time she smiled.  

His children and grandchildren believed the fairy tales when they were young. Though as they aged, one by one the belief was gone from all of their eyes save Henry - his boy (who was no longer a boy) who believed with everything he had. And as Killian grew older and Emma was no longer there to remind him, even his belief began to waver and he found himself questioning his memories. There were days, towards the end, when Henry would read Killian’s stories to him. And it was near the end that he couldn’t tell if forgotten curses and Neverland, pirates and princesses, and shepherds and bandits were real or nothing more than stories.

  
On his worst days, when Killian remembered nothing - not even himself, Henry would sit beside his bed well into the night to read him his favorite story - the one that started with a beanstalk. 

_But how,_ Killian would ask when Henry’s voice had long gone dry, _how does it end?_

_I don’t know,_ Henry would say each time with a sad sort of smile, _It’s not over yet._  

  
On the rare days when Killian believed in fairy tales, he wondered if Neverland’s damage was permanent, if his aging had slowed so much that he’d outlive everyone he loved - yet again. Then he’d catch a glance of himself in the mirror, grey haired and lined with wrinkles from days long ago spent in the sun and he’d laugh at the thought of a land where boy and pirate alike never grew up. 

  
And when he wakes one night on a rocky outcrop in a cavern, he thinks that perhaps he’s been here before. His memories have grown so old and crusted over with age that even now, standing alone on an island between life and death, he still can’t be sure what is real. He takes one step forward then another, and the rocky ledge shifts to accommodate him. Each step he takes forward is just a little bit easier and he feels just a little bit younger. By the time he reaches the opposite edge of the cavern he feels so, so young. 

When he goes as far as the cavern will allow, it opens up wide and bright and he’s blinded for a long moment. The hard rock beneath his feet is gone and there’s plush grass in its place. The unforgiving heat of the cave is replaced with a gentle summer breeze and Killian inhales deeply, smelling the salty brine of the sea. He blinks furiously and holds his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. Birds are chirping off in the distance and he steps further into the grassy meadow. The sky is almost impossibly bright and blue overhead and there is the peaceful sound of waves crashing onto a distant shore. The heat of the sun is pleasantly warm and he shucks off his coat, dropping it onto the grass behind him. For a moment Killian isn’t sure where to go, then he smiles. 

There, in the distance is a beanstalk.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't written in a while I've been working on the CS BB. Also apologies for any mistakes since I wrote this on my lunch quick. Thanks for reading!


End file.
